


Scenic Route

by celestialfreckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (can you say that about a one-shot? idk), Biker Dean, Cas POV, Dean POV, M/M, Slow Burn, but I'm only tagging Dean and Cas, there are a lot of other characters mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 11:49:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9489812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialfreckles/pseuds/celestialfreckles
Summary: Sometimes, it takes a couple of tries to get to hello. . .





	

**Author's Note:**

> My grandma lives close to Mt. Saint Helen's, and every time we visit her we would go to this one specific scenic outlook. Pretty much every time we were there, there would be bikers there, too. I got to thinking the other night at work...what if Dean was part of a biker family? And what if they traveled during the summer? And what if they crossed Cas' family's path a couple times?...and so I wrote this.
> 
> Cas' family is inspired by my own (though my family is not quite as big)
> 
> I hope you all enjoy :)

_June 14, 1986_

“Happy school is finally out?”

Dean nodded, swinging his legs over the edge of the work bench in Uncle Bobby’s garage. “Learn anything interesting?” Uncle Bobby asked, looking over at Dean as he strapped his pack onto the back of his Harley. Dean shook his head with a gap-toothed grin and Uncle Bobby chuckled. “Maybe next year then.”

A knock came from the opposite side of the garage door, and Uncle Bobby moved to open the door. Dean spotted his dad, scooting to the edge of the work bench and hopping off to run over to him. He weaved through the cluster of bikes and around the legs of the other bikers. “You ready to go, buddy?” Dad asked once Dean reached his side.

Dean tugged on the lapels of his new leather vest – the one Aunt Pamela got for him for his birthday – and grinned. “Yup!” Dad ruffled his hand through Dean’s hair before he picked him up and set him on the back of his bike. He sighed happily as Dad walked away to talk to the other adults. Mom and Aunt Ellen stood in the front yard, talking as Sammy and Jo ran tumbled around in the grass. “Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“Can’t Sammy come with us?”

“Not yet, kid. Wait a couple more years.”

Nodding, Dean looked back to his younger brother frowned. He was seven now, meaning he was old enough to go on the annual trip along the West Coast with the rest of the Winchesters. Uncle Bobby rolled his Harley out to join the others in the drive way, looking to Dad. “Are we ready?” 

The bike wobbled a little as Dad got on and Dean grabbed onto his waist so he did not fall off. Dad grabbed his hands before he could let go. “You’ve got to hang on, buddy. Tight as you can. All right?” Dean nodded, wrapping his arms around his dad, who patted his hands.

The Harleys’ engines soon roared to life, and they were off.

_July 7, 1986_

It had been chilly for late July, Castiel remembered, when he first saw the boy on the back of the bike.

Dad had the AC blasting throughout the Shurley family van. Cas was shivering in the middle seat, pressed between Michael and Lucy, who were fighting. Again. He wanted to ask Gabe to hand him his sweatshirt, but Dad announced that they were stopping to stretch their legs in a few minutes. 

Mt. Saint Helens soon came into view, the windshield framing the mountain and the surrounding forest as Dad parked the van. “All right, everyone out,” Mom said once they stopped. Michael stretched his arms out over Cas, pushing Lucy’s head on purpose. Cas winced as Lucy reached around him and smacked Michael across the chest.

“Ow – Dad! Lucy hit me!”

“Quiet, you two,” he said, glaring at everyone in the back seat as he unbuckled. “Make sure to use the port-a-potty if you need to. We won’t be stopping until we get there.”

Cas waiting for Michael to open his door and get out before unbuckling himself. Gabe and Anna climbed over him to get out before Cas could do so himself. He clicked his tongue in disgust, watching his other siblings traipse after Mom and Dad across the Mt. Saint Helen’s scenic outlook parking lot. Shivering despite the warm summer's breeze, Cas rubbed his hands over his arms and closed the sliding door with a grunt.

Shoving his hands into his jean pockets, Cas trudged across the parking lot and onto the sidewalk. He inspected the information boards posted at the low stone wall between the parking lot and the wilderness. His eyes squeezed shut when his peace was once again disrupted by Michael and Lucy’s bickering.

A low roar approached the outlook, soon growing loud enough to drown out the sound of his siblings. Castiel looked back as a band of bikers pulled up, their engines purring to a gradual silence. Leather-clad men and women dismounted their bikes, some pulling off helmets. One of the men helped a kid off the back of his bike and set him on the ground.

The kid pulled off their helmet, revealing a mess of sandy brown hair that was sticking up oddly in places. From this distance, he looked to be about Cas’ age. The kid hooked his helmet on the handle of this bike and looked his way. Cas looked away, blinking at the information boards. He mouthed the word _sedimentary_ as someone stepped up next to him.

The pitter-patter of running feet approached, and Cas squinted when someone stopped next to him. Looking over, his eyes met a pair of smiling green eyes. A smattering of faint freckles spread across the boy’s cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Blushing, Cas forced himself to look away and back to the mountain.

“Sure is pretty,” the boy from the back of the bike said, grinning as Cas dared to peek back over at him.

“Let’s go!” Cas heard Dad call out from behind them.

The boy from the back of the bike gave Cas a little wave before he turned and ran back to the Shurley van. By the time he buckled in, the boy from the back of the bike had his helmet back on. Cas thought about waving goodbye. By the time he worked up the courage to do so, they were pulling back onto the windy mountain road.

_July 9, 1986_

The coins in Dean’s hands chinked together as he ran up to the vending machines. He stood on his tiptoes to see over the head of the boy in front of him to pick out what he wanted. Stepping to the side, he looked up to the top at the Lays and to the Milky Way a couple rows down. As he went to go back behind the other boy, he accidentally bumped shoulders.

“Sorry.” 

He glanced over at the other boy, seeing a light pink tinging his tanned cheeks. He looked a lot like the pretty boy he had sort of met at Mt. Saint Helens. The boy peeked over at him, the pink spreading across his face as he turned back to the vending machines. Dean blinked, stepping back behind him. 

The pretty boy shuffled forward, sliding his change into the vending machine and pressing the buttons to release a bag of Cheetos. He dug around his pocket, pulling out a couple more coins. “Um…” Dean leaned forward, his eyebrows raising in question. “Do you have a quarter?”

Frowning, Dean looked down at the change sticking to his palm. If he gave him a quarter, he wouldn’t have enough to get himself something. Besides, Dad did give him the money from a snack before they stopped for lunch in the next town. Dean made the mistake of looking at the other boy and into winter blue eyes. His heart fluttered as he averted his eyes and Dean felt his own cheeks heat up as he looked back at the coins in his hand. Sighing, Dean passed a quarter to the pretty boy, who then stepped back up to the machine to get something else.

A bag of potato chips tumbled down and Dean huffed a little, turning away to go back to his dad when a hand latched onto his arm. The pretty boy let go, holding out the Lay’s to him.

The pretty boy passed Dean the bag of potato chips. “F-f-for the road,” the he said before he ran away from the vending machine. It crinkled in his hands as he watched him climb into the same mini-van he saw at Mt. Saint Helens. It was weird that they ran into each other again. Dean blinked as the van pulled out of the parking spot at watched it drive away. He did not think he would mind seeing the other boy again.

Once he got back home, he asked mom about the feeling in his chest when he looked at the pretty boy. She smiled and told him it was probably just a crush. Nothing to worry about. “Who knows,” she had said when she kissed him goodnight. “You might see him again some day.” She flooded his room in darkness as she flicked off the light of his bedroom.

Dean looked up at the glowing plastic green stars clustered above his head and focused on the biggest one. “I hope I do,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. If you wish on a star, your dream is sure to come true, right? “Please, let me see my friend again.”

Maybe, next time they met, he could find out his name.

_July 11, 1991_

Castiel was almost positive that Shurley family reunions would be reenacted on a loop in the seventh level of hell. The one good thing that ever came out of them was the fact that he got to see his cousin Hannah again. For rest of the day, he endured cheek pinches from doting aunts and long hugs from uncles whose names he could not even remember.

His breath condensed against the cool window of their van as he sighed. Mottled patches of sunlight covered the car and the windy mountain road. Over the ledge, there were just trees. Trees, trees, and more trees. Trees as far as the eye could see.

The book on tape that Mom picked out stopped and Cas blinked, looking up to the front of the van at the sudden silence. “Do we want the next cassette or something else?” she asked, her question directed to Dad and not any of them.

“Let’s try Paul Harvey again.”

Cas rolled his eyes, pressing her forehead against the window pane as the staticky sound of the radio filled the van. He closed his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep until he heard it. Harleys.

His heartbeat quickened in his chest as his eyes fluttered open. Cas knew it was foolish to hope that he would see him again – the boy on the back of the bike…the boy with the summer green eyes.

When he twisted around in his seat, Cas saw about six or seven bikes behind their mini-van. The lead bike moved to the center of the road to see around the charcoal van. Seconds later, their engine revved and they zipped around the van to pass the Shurley’s by. The other bikers soon followed suit, and Cas watched them, counting the number of the bikers on each one.

On the second to last bike that passed sat two riders, and the smaller of the two turned his head to inspect the Shurley’s van. _It might not be him. It might not be him_ , Cas told himself as his lifted his hand to wave. _He probably didn’t see. The window is tinted and –_

It could have been his imagination, but the smaller rider nodded once before they zipped in front of the minivan. Mom sucked her teeth – a blatant display of her disapproval – and Dad shifted in his seat.

“Crazy bikers,” he said, turning up the volume a few clicks. “I hope they get pulled over.”

Cas sat back in his seat, pulling the shoulder strap of his seatbelt over his head with a wistful sigh.

_July 23, 1993_

“Sammy!”

Jo opened one of the refrigerator doors of the Woodland Gas-n-Sip. She pulled out three bottles of Coca-Cola and passed them to Dean. He shuffled the bags of chips around in his arms to fit the soda.

“Yeah?” Sammy called back, peering over the rows of snacks.

“Still want tea?”

“Yeah.” Jo grabbed one of the bottles of Lipton tea, placing it atop the rest of the snacks in Dean’s arms. “With lemon.” Dean rolled his eyes when he and Jo looked at each other, and she replaced the tea. 

“You kids almost done?” Uncle Bobby asked, tapping his fingers on the counter by the register. Dean shuffled over, dumping the pile of food and drinks onto the counter. Once Uncle Bobby started to pay, he went over to where Jo and Sammy were by the door. Jo spinned the revolving tourist stand, looking at the magnets and postcards featuring Mt. Saint Helens. He pulled out one of the postcards, flipping it over to read the short tidbit on the back. A tinny jingling sounded as Dean was replacing the postcard.

“ – and, I don’t know, Mom. Cas just snores really loud,” said a red-headed girl who looked about Dean’s age who walked inside.

“Do you think a pillow would help?” 

“Doubtful,” she said with a huff, and her mother laughed.

“Do you think Uncle Bobby is almost done?” Jo asked, looking back over her shoulder. Both Winchester boys shrugged. “I’m gonna go help him.” Dean nodded, yawning as he glanced outside to where Dad was gassing up the bikes with Mom and Aunt Ellen. 

On the other side of the bikes sat a rather familiar looking gray van. A couple of teenagers milled around it, the oldest-looking one leaning on the side of the van and talking to whoever was gassing up the van. A girl and one of the other guys were leaning over the open back of the van, digging around in the cooler. The youngest-looking one was stretching his arms over his head, watching Dad and the others as they finished gassing up. One of his siblings got his attention and tossed him a water bottle from the van.

Dean smirked when he missed the bottle and ran after it as it skittered across the concrete. He picked it up and brushed it off with a small smile, laughing when his brother made some sort of smart remark. He glanced back at the other boy and froze, his hand hovering over another one of the postcards. 

It was the pretty boy from all those years ago. It had to be. Dean blinked once, twice, watching the pretty boy run back to the van. Sammy snapped his fingers in front of his face, taking his attention away from the outside.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He huffed a laugh, looking back out the window to see the pretty boy climb back into the van. “Do you know that guy?”

“Uh…” Dean pursed his lips, shuffling his feet and twirling the postcard stand around. “No?” Sammy nodded and looked over his shoulder to where Jo and Uncle Bobby were. “He’s – just some guy that I’ve seen several times on this trip.”

“Like, this year?”

Dean shook his head. “It’s weird, that’s all.” Sammy rubbed his nose and made a disinterested noise. Shrugging, Dean said, “Whatever, it’s nothing.”

Sammy had stopped paying attention to him. Instead, he was watching Jo struggling with the many snacks that they had bought. He stepped back, accidentally running into the red-headed girl from earlier. “Oh-p, sorry.”

“No problem,” her mother said, opening the door for them to leave and for Mom as she was coming inside.

“You kids almost ready to go?” Mom asked, looking past Dean at Sammy and Jo as they approached with the bags of snacks.

“Yup!” Jo said, walking around Mom and running after Sammy. 

Mom held the door open and gestured for him to follow her out. Dean glanced behind her, watching the charcoal mini-van pull out of the Gas-n-Sip parking lot. _This crush is stupid. I’m being stupid._ He sighed and nodded, stepping up to her side and walking with her back to the bikes.

_July 1, 1996_

“Cas! Did you go potty?”

Cas flushed red at the way Mom’s voice echoed off the trees and into the valley. The entire state of Washington probably heard his mother ask him if he had to use the restroom. What the hell… It was a good thing they were the only ones at the scenic outlook at the moment or else he would have to be severely embarrassed, as opposed to only slightly.

“Mom, I’m seventeen!” he said through gritted teeth as he ran up next to her at the van. “I would know if I needed to go pee or not.”

“I know, hon,” she said, digging into the cooler in the back of the van and pulling out two bottles of water. “But it’s a long drive back to – “

“I’m fine. Geez.” He opened the Ziploc bag of snickerdoodles Aunt Amara sent back with them, grabbing three. “I didn’t inherit your tiny bladder. Gabe did.”

As if on cue, the door to the port-a-potty opened to reveal his older brother. Cas took a bite of his cookie, almost choking on it when his mother started laughing. “Stretch your legs, then.”

“’Kay,” he said around his mouthful, brushing the crumbs off his lip and chin as he meandered away from the van. He found himself at the brown information boards, which he leaned his hip against as he started on the second snickerdoodle.

No matter how many times he saw it, Cas could never seem to get enough of looking at Mt. Saint Helen’s. He remembered one summer going up to the summit and seeing the inside of the crater. They had even hiked the Ape Cave Trail that year. The Shurley family vacations may not amount to much in terms of travel – he had never been out of the country yet, not even to Canada – but despite everything, they were still fun.

Cas nibbled on the edge of the last bite of his second snickerdoodle when he heard the Harley Davidsons. He lost his grip on the cookie and it fell to the ground as he whipped around to see them pull into the parking lot. “Cas!” Dad called out over the roar of the engines. “Let’s go!”

He nodded absently, watching the bikers as they stretched their limbs, no doubt numb from the road and the vibrations of the engines. Cas scanned their faces, hoping, praying just a little bit to see if the boy on the back of the bike was there.

He was.

Cas’ heart fluttered as the boy looked over at their van, stepping up on his tiptoes to glance over the other bikers. Was he looking for him? “Cas!” Gabe called, leaning out of the minivan and waving over at him. “Come on!”  
Across the parking lot, the boy combed his fingers through his wind-ruffled hair as he turned to Cas. He took a deep breath, ducking his head as he hurried over to the van. “Dean,” a stranger said, Cas’ attention turning toward the bikers when he reached the side of the minivan. “Where are you going?”

The boy on the back of the bike had started toward him, his head cocked a little to the side in curiosity. The summer sun shone brightly behind him, and Cas squinted to make out his silhouette. The boy on the back of the bike waved “Hello” and Cas, this time, did not hesitate to return the gesture. Cas ducked inside as one of the other bikers joined him – a lanky-limbed, shaggy-haired kid.

“Dean, who was that?”

“That guy I told you a – “

He knew he was blushing as Gabe slid the van door shut behind him. “Cas,” Dad said, pinning him with a look in the rearview mirror as he buckled in. “Do you know that kid?”

“Yeah, his name is Dean.”

Dean. The boy on the back of the bike’s name was Dean.

Cas smiled, and he did not stop until they reached the Dalles for dinner.

_May 4, 2004_

Dean flipped his phone shut and frowned at the light up screen. 12:07. It was a little past two in the afternoon back in Lawrence. What could Mom be doing that she could not answer her phone?

“Get a hold of her?” Jess, Sammy’s high school sweetheart, asked, coming around the aisle with two boxes of devil’s food cake in her arms.

“Nah,” Dean said, stuffing his phone into his pocket. “She must be out.”

“Hmm.” 

Jess stopped next to him, both staring at the shelves of coffee and frowning. He had heard something once about adding a little bit of coffee to chocolate cake to help enrich the chocolate flavor. If he remembered right, it was Mom who told him. However, he was not sure.

She shifted the cake boxes in her arms. “Well, I guess we can skip it. Making a cake will be hard enough as it is.”

“It’s a box cake…it’s pretty fool-proof.”

“I guess that’s true.” Dean snorted, scanning the different kinds of coffee again. “Oh shit, I forgot frosting. I’ll be right back.”

It was Sammy’s twenty-first birthday which, usually, meant a night out getting drunk off your ass. This would have been the case tonight, if both he and Jess did not have to study for their upcoming final. He made Dean promise it would be a quiet night spent together in his dorm room with just him and Jess for company. Dean followed Jess to the baking aisle, his boots squeaking on the shiny linoleum floor.

“Do you remember the recipe, Grandma?” someone said, grabbing a can of pureed pumpkin from the shelf.

“It’s fine. It’s on the back. See, Cas?”

Dean stopped in his tracks to look back at the shoppers he passed by. That was the name of the Mt. Saint Helen’s kid, if he remembered right. It had been a while since he last heard it. Dean always wonder if he dreamt him up, if he was simply an apparition of a cute guy that he would see now and again, appearing when he least expected it. 

If it was him, he was a man now – which, Dean snorted to himself, obviously that was the case – with broad shoulders and tan skin and thick, curly brown hair. His back was to Dean, and before he could turn around, Jess grabbed Dean’s arm and guided him over to the frosting.

“So, which one does he like?” Dean asked, glancing down the aisle when Cas and his grandma moved away. Sighing as Cas turned the corner, he turned back to the frostings and felt Jess’ curious gaze.

“Do you know that guy?” Dean shook his head, grabbing two German chocolate frostings. “Better grab another one. You know how he is.” Growing up, Mom would always buy an extra carton of the coconut frosting for Sam to eat with a spoon as she made his cake. It was his favorite thing, for some reason.

Chuckling, Dean reached for a third carton as his phone buzzed in his pocket. “Fucking finally.” He passed one of the frosting cartons to his left hand and answered his phone. “Hey, Mom!”

She let out a long sigh. “Hi, hon.”

“So, Jess and I had a questi – “

“Hi Mom!” Jess said, raising her voice to be picked up by the phone’s microphone. 

“We had a question about coffee in chocolate cake and if it brings out the chocolate flavor.” A pause. Dean waited for her to answer, hearing only sniffles from the other end. “Uh,” his gaze slid to Jess whose brow instantly furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” she mouthed. Dean shrugged.

“Mom, is everything all right?” Another long pause and a deep breath. “Mom?”

“No…no, it’s not,” she said, her voice cracking on the other end of the phone. Dean froze, worrying his bottom lip, and looked to Jess. Her eyes searched Dean’s for answers, and Dean shook his head. “I-it’s your dad.”

Gulping, Dean averted his eyes, staring instead at the toes of his boots. “Is – “

“He had a heart attack early this morning and I’ve been with the doctors al-all day. I – “

“Is he gonna be okay?”

His mother sighed shakily on the other end of the phone and Dean rubbed his hand over his eyes, hoping he was hiding the tears brimming in his eyes. “You need to get home.” She paused, sniffling. “Sam, too, if possible.” Dean lowered his hand when Jess placed her hand on his arm, but he still did not look at her. He could not. His chin quivered as he took a deep breath. “Hon, I have to go. The doctor is calling me back in. We’ll talk later.”

“See you soon,” Dean said, his voice thick. Jess’ thumb rubbed back and forth over his arm as he hung up the phone. “We, uh…” His train of thought derailed as Jess pulled him into a hug, the boxes of cake digging into his ribs. Dean’s resolve melted then and the first of his tears started to fall.

“I’m so sorry, Dean.” She held him, her embrace a warm comfort as Mom’s news continued to sink in. Dad was dying, and…and…Dean hid his face in Jess’ shoulder. “We need to tell Sam,” Jess said after several moments, Dean letting her go. She walked down the aisle, returning the boxes of cake to their places on the shelves. Jess extended her hand to him and squeezed it when he grabbed it. “Let’s go.”

Dean nodded and let her lead him outside.

_September 18, 2004_

Memorials are strange things – somber and quiet affairs where reality feels just a little shifted. Cas’ grandfather had died two months prior to the memorial service he had just attended. They had been close, well, as close as they could be. Grandpa and Grandma moved to Southern California almost eight years ago, and Cas had seen them maybe twice since then. School and work interfered too much with his schedule for him to take the time to go down for a visit.

Once Mom called him, in the middle of his lunch break, that it was cancer – lung cancer, and he only had a couple months left – Cas found the time.

He could not help but feel a little guilty for the duration of that visit. He and Gabe were there together, both taking turns driving Grandpa to the doctor or Grandma to the store. Gabe helped her cook meals while Cas played cards with him. Anna and Lucy were coming next week, and Michael was trying to finish his research as quick as science would allow so he could come as soon as possible. When he gave Grandpa a hug and kiss goodbye, he knew that it would be the last time he saw him.

And, it was.

Cas kicked a pebble out of his way on the trail meandering through the woods, and it skittered off the broken asphalt and into the ferny underbrush. His bottom lip trembled as he continued along the path. Grandpa was buried in California, but a memorial service was held back in Washington for the family and friends who could not, for whatever reason, make it to the funeral.

The memorial ended a few hours ago, and the Shurley’s had just gotten back to Grandpa and Grandma’s old house, where Aunt Amara now lived on her own. Cas had helped bring in the leftover food and decorations, but when everyone started to sit and reminisce, he excused himself to go for a walk.

Anna started to follow him out, but he shook his head and left alone.

Did he know where he was going? Not necessarily. He just remembered taking this trail with Grandpa when he expressed an interest in bird watching when he was like, ten. Sighing, Cas pulled out his phone and frowned. His family was probably getting worried, but there was nothing he could do about that without a cell signal. It was only one in the afternoon, though, so he still had a great deal of sunlight still left.

He would turn back soon. Probably.

The winding path through the forest soon led to a road, which Cas then followed, stepping on the mottled patches of sunlight on the cracked asphalt. He shifted to the side of the road if a car ever happened to drive past, the quiet hum of their engines disrupting his peace. A chill settled into his skin as he trekked up the mountain road, and he was soon shivering and hugging himself as he walked on and on. 

He really should turn back now.

Cas stopped in his tracks to look around, his teeth chattering. His legs burned from the exertion of walking for so long, and he rubbed his hands over his thighs to relieve some of the ache as he turned around. Sunlight beamed over Mt. Saint Helen’s, Cas squinting at the sight. 

In no way, shape, or form did Cas consider himself a photographer – he was just a man with a phone and a great appreciation for nature. But, the lighting was so pretty and the way the clouds swooped across the bright blue sky…he slipped his phone out of his pocket and snapped a few pictures, his hands shaking a little from the cold.

_I’ll probably delete these later_ , he thought as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. He cupped his hands over his mouth a blew, a little warmth returning to his fingers. With a long sigh, Cas looked back down the road, his heart sinking a little with how much walking was still ahead of him. He started walking when he heard an approaching engine. It was distinct, a sound that he could recognize in his sleep. Cas stopped in his tracks, his head whipping around to face the source.

A lone Harley Davidson drove up the road, coming to a slow stop across the way from Cas. The biker glanced over to Cas – or at least he assumed he did. It was a little hard to tell because of the helmet – as he dismounted. He flipped up the sun visor on his helmet and looked down at the pack strapped to the back of his bike, pulling out a strange bottle…no…it was an urn.

The biker turned his back to Cas and took a could steps away from his bike, shaking a little of the ash out of the urn. A rash of goose pimples spread over Cas’ skin, his teeth chattering loudly in his ears, as he watched the biker screw the top back onto the urn. 

Part of him wanted to go over and offer his condolences to the man, despite not knowing him. The loss of a loved one is a hard thing to face with family and friends, but what if this man had none of that? No support system? Cas glanced down the road that led back to Aunt Amara’s home. Perhaps…perhaps it would be better to just leave the man alone. Let him deal with his grief on his own – that was why he had left on this walk, right? To be alone, to reminisce...The biker was placing the urn back in his pack when he looked over at Cas, offering him a wave. 

Just that – a single wave. 

Memories from his childhood flooded back, fleeting snapshots of summers past and the boy on the back of the bike. Cas hesitated a second more, his throat tightening as his heartbeat quickened ever so slightly, and checked both sides of the road before jogging across. His steps slowed as he reached the biker and his fingers fidgeted along the hem of his oversized hoodie. Cas ducked his head quickly when the biker moved to remove his helmet. 

“I-I’m sorry…for your loss,” he said, his throat almost a little too tight to speak.

“What?” Cas looked up then, his eyes meeting a pair of summer green eyes, and he blinked several times. The biker looked Cas over, a smile dimpling his scruffy freckled cheeks as he took out his earbuds. He could hear, then, the distant sounds of what Cas thought might be Metallica. “Sorry, what was that?”

Cas shook his head slightly, staring up at the biker. _It couldn’t be…_

* * * * *

Squinting through the sun visor of his helmet, Dean saw a man standing there. Watching him. “Odd.” Highway to Hell blaring from his earbuds drowned out his own voice. He secured the lid on the metal urn slipped his dad’s ashes back into his pack, zipping it in and glancing back over to the man. He was still staring. Dean clicked his tongue and waved, hoping his sarcasm transferred to the gesture.

“Fuck off, dude. Leave me alo – oh, shit.”

Dean rolled his eyes as the man took the wave as his cue to come over and talk to him. He yanked off his helmet as the man stopped a little way away from his bike and set in on the seat. He looked familiar, like that guy back California looked familiar. What are the odds, Dean thought with a smirk as the cute guy said something. His words were lost on Dean since he still had AC/DC blaring in his ears.

“What?” Dean asked as he pulled out his earbuds. The guy met his eyes then and Dean gulped. It did not matter how infrequently he saw them, he would recognize those winter blue eyes anywhere. The cute guy blinked several times in succession, searching Dean’s face. Did he recognize him, too? “Sorry, what was that?”

“Uh,” he said, giving Dean a quick once over before meeting his eyes again. He gestured toward the pack strapped onto the back of Dean’s bike. “I’m sorry for your loss. I…I recently lost someone close to me too, an-and you have my condolences.”

“Thank you.” Dean patted his pack and smiled at the guy. “You have my condolences, too.” The guy nodded, looking down the road the way Dean assumed he came from. “My dad.”

“Hmm?” 

“My dad. That’s – “ Dean swallowed passed the growing lump in his throat. “In his will, he asked for me to take him on our annual summer trip one last time and scatter his ashes.”

The guy squinted, looking Dean over again. “Every summer?” His gaze drifted to the bike and Dean could not help the small smile that crept across his face.

“You look familiar, you know,” he said on an impulse, watching the cute guy for his reaction. “A little bit.” His eyes darted up to Dean’s face and widened a fraction. 

“Dean?”

Dean stared at the cute guy for a good ten seconds, stunned. It was him. “Cas, right?” His – Cas’ – eyes lit up. “I seem to remember that being your name.”

“I guess we’ve never been properly introduced,” Cas said, holding out his hand to Dean. “I’m Castiel Shurley.”

Dean took his hand, giving him a firm handshake. “Dean Winchester. Nice to finally meet you.” Color bloomed across Cas’ cheeks. Dean’s heart fluttered at the sight. 

“So, um,” Cas looked back down the road, Dean following suit. “I should get back. I have a lot of walking to do.”

“Do…do you want me to give you a ride? It wouldn’t be a problem,” he added when Cas’ shook his head. “I’m heading that way anyway. Besides, it’s getting a little chilly and – “

“S-sure.” 

Dean bit back his smile before it became a grin, adjust his pack on the back of the seat. He stared at the seats, mentally gauging whether they could hold two grown men or not. “Okay,” he said, hooking his leg over the bike and sitting down. “So hop on and – “ Dean glanced around to see Cas holding on to the bottom of the back seat. “No, you’ve got to hang on to me.”

Tentatively, Cas slipped his arms around Dean, his hands folding around his waist. “Tap my side when we get close.” 

“Okay,” Dean heard Cas say as he pulled on his helmet and started his Harley. Soon, they were zipping down the mountain road, Dean slowing a bit when the road got too rough or there was an especially sharp turn. After a while, Cas rested his head on Dean’s shoulder, looking out over the lake glittering through the trees. 

Once they hit Cougar, Cas tapped Dean’s side with an extended finger. Nodding, Dean slowed down a little when they came close to each turnoff from the main road and turned right when Cas indicated with another tap. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as they drove up to a house set deep into the woods. Gray smoke puffed out of the chimney and a bunch of cars were parked in a mess out front. Dean slowed to a stop behind a red Camry and clicked off his ignition. Cas released his waist and slipped off the bike, a huge grin plastered on his face. 

“First time on the back of a bike?” Dean asked as he took off his helmet.

“First time on a bike, period. Thanks, you didn’t have to do this for me,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the house. A girl stepped out onto the porch, watching them. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem, seriously.”

Cas nodded and sighed, his attention returning to Dean. “It was nice to meet you, Dean,” he said, holding out his hand for another handshake…as in goodbye. Dean gulped. He was not ready to say goodbye. Not when they finally found each other.

“Wait a second.”

He leaned back, digging around in his pack for the Sharpie he had been carrying around this trip so he could write John was here at every opportunity. It was another part of his will – he wanted to make his mark on the world, literally. Dean had laughed when he read it but he agreed to it, and he had done just that at every opportunity. 

When he found the Sharpie, he uncapped it and took Cas’ hand, scrawling _Let’s not go so long between meeting (866) 907-3235_ across his palm. He looked up at Cas to find him blushing. Dean put the cap back on with a small smile. “I, uh, I’ll see you around, Cas.”

“Yeah.”

Dean looked back at the porch to find two new people, a man and a woman, watching them. He put his helmet back on, patting the top. Cas backed away as Dean started his Harley again. Cas waved as he pulled away, and Dean felt his phone vibrate in his jacket pocket as soon as he turned onto the main road.

Dean smiled. 

The cool, almost-autumn breeze buffeted him, the sound of his engine echoing through the tunnel of trees and ferny underbrush. Russet patches of sunlight lit the road ahead, leading Dean out of the mountains and into the plains. He reached his hotel in Woodland just as the sun was starting to set and parked his bike up front. He unlatched his pack and headed inside to check in.

Once the door to his room for the night was closed behind him, Dean fished his phone out of his pocket. 

_3 unread messages_

Gulping, Dean opened them.

_From: (509) 401-0504_

_3:47pm // Hello Dean_

_3:47pm // :)_

_3:55pm // Uh, this is Cas, in case you didn’t know_

Smirking, Dean saved Cas into his contacts before opening his messages again. He clicked _Reply_ and stared at the blinking line on his screen that was impatiently waiting for him to type something – anything. Dean worried his bottom lip as he started his message, his hands trembling as he hit the number keys. 

When he finished, he stared at the screen for about five minutes, wondering if it was okay. Would it be enough? Or should he delete the winking face… It could come across as too flirty and Dean wanted to get to know the guy – to be his friend. That was what he had wished for all those years ago, and he did not want to fuck it up now that he had the opportunity. He backspaced twice, and frowned. The message seemed too bare, now…maybe Cas would think he was not excited to hear from him so soon if he did not use an emoticon. 

“You’re overthinking this,” he muttered to himself, his thumbs hovering over the keys. “It’s just a text.” Before he could change his mind, he added a different emoticon and hit _Send_ before he could fret over it anymore.

**To: Cas**

**5:03pm // Hey Cas :D**

He tossed his phone to the other side of the bed and got up, stretching his arms over his head. He meandered around the room and stopped by the TV, picking up the pamphlet with the list of channels on one side and the take-out restaurants on the other. As soon as he decided what restaurant he wanted to order from, he saw his screen light up out of the corner of his eye. Dean dove onto his bed, scooped up the phone, and rolled over onto his back to read the text.

_From: Cas_

_5:08pm // :D_

Dean grinned and hit _Reply_ , all thoughts of dinner vanishing from his mind.

_September 6, 2008_

Cas yawned as he ran his fingers through his damp hair, flicking the fan and the light of the hotel bathroom off.

“Done?” Dean asked, turning down the volume on the TV as Cas came back into the main room. Cas fell into bed next to him, nodding. “Hey.” Dean tapped the back of his head, his fingers stroking through his hair. “You that tired?”

“Your fault,” Cas mumbled into the comforter, smiling sleepily when Dean’s fingers stopped moving. “I wasn’t expecting to walk the entire Grand Canyon today.”

Dean sniffed a laugh, patting the back of his head. “Be right back, gotta brush my teeth.”

“’Kay.” 

Cas rolled over, watching his boyfriend shuffle across the hotel room to the bathroom. The water started running and soon Dean was brushing his teeth while humming Eye of the Tiger. Cas rolled over onto Dean’s side of the bed and reached for the remote, flicking through the channels until he found PBS. He turned the volume down to five and tossed the remote to the unused bed before slipping under the covers. His eyes drifted closed as Bob Ross talked about the baby squirrel he was currently fostering.

The blue light from the TV illuminated the room as Dean flicked off the light, his shadow soon passed over it as he crawled into bed. “I fucking love Bob,” he whispered as he settled next to Cas, his arm draping over his waist.

“He’s the best,” Cas said, yawning. 

“You’re really tired, aren’t you?”

“Mm.”

Dean snorted, nestling his chin on Cas’ shoulder as he pulled him closer to his chest. “’Night, then.”

Cas opened his eyes, staring at the reflection of light from the TV on the wall. Four years…it was almost four years since they had officially met. After texting and calling and skyping each other for six months, they decided they should start dating, no matter the distance. About a year after that, Cas could not take it anymore and was ready to leave his job and home in Washington and find a place for he and Dean in Kansas. He stayed up all night scouring the internet for job opportunities until he was interrupted by a knock at the door

He did not remember much about that morning, other than the fact that Dean was standing on his front porch with a fistful of flowers. And, it had been raining – well, drizzling, more like. Dean’s teeth were chattering as he asked if he could come inside. Later, Dean told him that he looked cute standing there, all bleary-eyed and disheveled from lack of sleep. 

But Dean…well, Dean was there to stay, it seemed. Cas was not sure how he survived that long without him by his side.

Cas sighed as he rolled over to face him, wincing when he accidentally knocked Dean’s nose with the crown of his head. “Sorry,” he said, his whisper loud in the minimal space between them.

The span of a few heartbeats passed before Dean settled his arms back around Cas. “Something wrong?”

Cas shook his head, a small smile lifting the corner of his lips. “Nothing,” he said, sighing. “It’s just, I don’t know – “ Cas lost his train of thought for a moment when Dean pressed a kiss into his still damp hair. “ – I was wondering why it took so long for us to find each other.”

Dean smiled, Cas could hear it in his voice. “We found each other a long time ago,” he said, as he pulled Cas closer to him. “We just took the scenic route to hello.”

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus fact: when I first started writing this, I was only planning on doing Cas' POV on this story. 
> 
> Bonus fact 2.0: WA state is really pretty and if you've never been y'all should come over and check it out :D


End file.
